Reinvention
by Steph5
Summary: He wanted to be someone who was happy and who didn't cry at weddings. She wanted to be all sophisticated and crap. They both needed to reinvent themselves. Takes place during the finale. Mildly suggestive situations.


Reinvention  
by Steph

Summary: He wanted to be someone who was happy and who didn't cry at weddings. She wanted to be all sophisticated and crap. They both needed to reinvent themselves. Takes place during the finale.

Rating: PG-13 to R, but mostly because of language. The "adult activities" are pretty much implied.

Dedicated to Holly, beta and encourager.

Also, I really should let you know. This is Toby/Meredith. Because my Toby/Kelly leanings weren't weird enough. There's an A/N following the fic explaining things just a bit.

I do not own these characters.

-

There were times when he could almost pretend that things were okay. He lived in New York - so much more exciting than Scranton - and got to interact with new, interesting people. He didn't have to deal with paperwork or dental plans or relationship forms anymore. He wasn't being filmed. He was fine. Everything was fine.

Except it wasn't. He had been fired and Dwight refused to write him a letter of referral. He was trying to write but only had five chapters written, each one more ridiculous and long-winded than the last. He was living in a small apartment with several people, most of them half his age, all of them rude, leaving their loud music on all night and their dirty dishes in the sink. He had few friends and no love life to speak of; the only woman he spent quality time with was his therapist who charged twice as much as the one in Scranton. Oh and there was that little situation with his daughter, but he was trying not to think about that now. Sometimes when he was down he would go on Facebook and read what his former coworkers were up to. Except for Nellie. Nellie had blocked him completely.

His coworkers were up to a lot. He accepted that they were all doing better than he was. It wasn't unexpected and he tried to be happy for them and their various good fortunes. He took his antidepressants and got on a plane and was reunited with everyone and sat through the panel discussion and the wedding and he tried his hardest to be happy even as his mind wandered to his crappy apartment and he wondered if anyone was sleeping in his bed or eating his food even though he had clearly written his name on everything.

And he was doing fine really. He was doing fine up until his dance with Pam. He had been dancing with Phyllis and Pam and Jim were dancing near them, all smiles and love, and the second the music changed into a different song, Phyllis had stepped away from him and announced, "I'd like to dance with Jim now." And she gave them all a look showing that she meant business and would not be denied. So he and Pam were left standing uncomfortably near each other until she finally shrugged and asked, "Want to dance?"

Of course he did. And he was so damn careful. Careful not to stand too close or hold her in a way that could possibly offend anyone. She had been talking about Dwight and Angela and she had made some comment, off-handed and full of affection, "I guess there really is someone for everyone."

And that did it. Dwight, power hungry, crazy Dwight, was married and Michael, who had made his life a living hell, was married and even had kids. Boys. James and Ryan. And Erin had found her birth parents and Oscar was running for office and had a decent shot of winning and Kevin owned a semi-successful bar and Darryl was probably a millionaire by now and Stanley had retired and everyone was happy except him and he found his eyes welling up and he hiccuped an apology even as he heard and felt himself start to cry. Because he hadn't humiliated himself enough.

"Is it me?" Pam asked. After momentarily freezing at his display, she recovered enough to pat his back. "Is it Nellie?" And he said no to both because really it wasn't.

"It's everything," he choked out, face red and blotchy, voice hoarse. It was everything and nothing and it was unfair and it was his life and he was alone and he'd probably have to double his dosage of antidepressants and finally he was able to breathe and apologize again and get the hell away from everyone before he managed to embarrass himself any further.

-

She wasn't too thrilled with the way she was portrayed in the documentary. If you didn't know her you would think she was nothing but an alcoholic who tended to flash people and sleep around. And sure she liked drinking and really liked sex but she was so much more than that. She was a mother for Pete's sake. And she had been going to college. She guessed no one cared about that. It was more fun to show her exposing herself than studying case reports. She had watched enough trashy reality TV to understand the editing choices even if she didn't always appreciate them.

At first she liked the attention once the documentary aired. And she got a lot of attention from men. Men she didn't even know asked her out when they saw her at the drugstore buying toilet paper and toothpaste; guys she had dismissed as one night stands suddenly remembered where they had stored her phone number all those years ago.

And she liked that, liked knowing that she still had it. Until she woke up next to one guy, a guy who had seemed nice and normal the night before when they had gone out for Mexican food. In the morning the guy had smiled and said something like, "I told my friend I was going out with you. We had both watched your show and he said he knew the redhead would show me a good time. And he was right!"

Something about that had bothered her and she sent him on his way. She had taken a shower and drove to a store way out of town and turned herself into a brunette. And she made a vow to herself - no more strangers. No more guys who only knew her from the documentary. She made another vow - no more drinking.

The first vow she kept. The second one she...well, not so much. So she tried moderation. She kept some bottles at work because it was still Dunder Mifflin and Dwight was still her boss. But she had tea too. She tried not to drink when Jake was around. She didn't drink and drive. But she wasn't a complete loser. She still drank during special occasions.

This whole weekend was one big special occasion. There was a panel discussion and a wedding and Michael was there and everyone was together again and everyone else was drinking and having a good time. Well almost everyone. She watched, in shock, as Toby stepped away from Pam, in tears and she wondered what that was about.

She felt someone poke her and turned around to face Michael. He was watching Toby and because she didn't really want to hear what he'd say about that, she smiled brightly and asked Michael to show her pictures of his kids. Michael had grinned with pride and she listened and nodded as he told her that James and Ryan were just as cool as their namesakes.

-

He was able to pull himself together. In the men's room, he splashed cold water on his face and took a few deep breaths. He was fine, he told himself, not quite believing it. He wondered if he should apologize to Pam again or just let it go and pretend nothing had happened. He wondered if she had told anyone, if Jim now knew. He wondered if anyone else had seen him crying.

He tried not to think about it. He exited the restroom and went back to his seat. He avoided Michael and Pam and Nellie, but spoke to a few people who didn't seem too repulsed by him. Darryl told him a little about the new job; Oscar told him how the campaign was going. He congratulated Erin and her parents and was just beginning to feel like himself again when he felt someone next to him.

He turned. Meredith. With her new brown hair. "Hey," he said. "How's it going?"

"Eh," she said. "You?"

"Eh." That seemed like a perfect response.

The two of them stood there together for a minute. He wondered if she had seen him cry. He wondered if she was still drinking. He wondered if he would ever master small talk.

"I'm going to get a drink," she announced. "Want anything?"

"No," he said. "Thanks."

He was alone again. He watched everyone mingling. Everyone seemed so happy. He couldn't remember the last time he had been really truly happy. He doubted he'd ever be happy again. He checked his watch. The reception would be ending soon; the next event on the agenda was the mural unveiling in the warehouse. He was exhausted. Maybe he would skip that. He wondered if anyone would notice if he just left. Or if they would care. Probably not.

He meant to slip away unnoticed, but Pete came to talk to him. Pete was a good guy, he thought to himself. He found himself walking out with him, Darryl and Val, Andy and Meredith. Darryl asked if he was going to the warehouse thing.

They were just being polite he knew. They didn't really care. He mumbled something about turning in early, but that was met with protests. You have to go they said. Pete even called him Tobes. They really seemed to want him there. He hadn't expected that and found himself smiling. Really smiling.

This was probably the happiest he could get. He would gladly take it. He would go.

-

She was bored. Bored out of her mind. She didn't care much about Pam's mural in the warehouse and didn't know why the unveiling was that big of a deal. She also didn't like standing still for so many damn pictures with all these random people when all she wanted to do was head upstairs for the real party. She met Toby's eyes and he looked as bored as she felt. She smiled. He made a face at her.

Finally that was over and they were back in the office. Not everyone, just the people that mattered. People toasted and drank and she drank and she stood and talked to Toby for awhile. She told him about all the new people and that Dakota might seem sweet and harmless but was a total backstabbing bitch.

They talked about Dwight and Angela being married, of Ryan and Kelly running off and ditching both Ravi and a baby and of Erin reuniting with her family. "It's been quite a day," he said drily. She laughed.

She wondered if this was the longest the two of them had ever talked in all the years working together. It was possible. He wasn't much of a talker.

"Hey," he said, "I forgot about you studying psychology. Whatever happened with that?"

She shrugged, feeling a little pleased by his interest. "Nothing much. I guess I'm taking a little time off before I decide the next step."

"I studied psychology in college," he said and she wasn't sure if he had ever mentioned that to her. "I don't remember much. Although I have done some amateur diagnosing of a few of my former coworkers."

She laughed again. "I did that too. I have a few theories on Dwight I'd love to share."

He smiled. It wasn't a bad smile. He actually wasn't a bad looking guy, she thought to herself, an idea forming. And he wasn't a stranger or someone who only knew her from the documentary. Plus he had been crying earlier. He could use this. Lord knows she could. She touched his arm, leaned in a little, and said, "You hungry? Let's get out of here."

-

Meredith handed him her keys to her van. "Drive. I don't want to get in trouble. I've been good."

This would work logistically. He had taken a cab to the panel and to the wedding. He had gotten a ride to the office. And he was a little hungry. They would go get some dessert or something and he'd drive her home and take a cab back to the crappy little motel.

"I'll give you directions," she said. "Take a left here."

They ended up in front of her house. Not the best neighborhood, he realized. His ex and daughter lived about fifteen minutes away in a much nicer area. No, he told himself. Don't think about them now. "Did you need to get something before we go?" he asked.

"Did you think we were going out for a fancy steak dinner?" she asked. "Cause I'm not made of money. It ain't cheap to make my ass look this classy. We're eating here."

"I wasn't expecting you to treat," he muttered before realizing that a fancy steak dinner was pretty much out of his budget as well.

He followed her in. "Welcome to the dump," she said, sounding almost like she was boasting. He didn't say anything. He noticed a stain on the tan carpet, the smell of cigarette smoke in the air and once in the kitchen, a long line of ants milling around the trash can, but at least it was hers. At least she didn't have to share it with strangers. He thought briefly of his old place which was tiny, but clean. He missed it. He wondered who lived there now. He hoped they appreciated it.

She rummaged through the cluttered cupboard before pulling out a bag of pork rinds and handing it to him. "Here."

"Um," he said. He took the bag and stared at it. He forced himself not to turn it over and read the list of ingredients. "I..."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're not a vegetarian are you?"

"No."

"Good," she said. "I don't trust vegetarians." She pulled out a box of crackers. "This more to your liking, Mr. Fancypants?"

"I didn't mean..." he said, feeling flustered. He set both the pork rinds and crackers on the kitchen table. What exactly was he doing here?

-

She watched him. He fidgeted under her gaze. "Um..."

She gestured to the couch. "Sit down if you want."

"Oh. Okay."

She brought the snacks out and sat down next to him. He seemed really nervous. Jumpy even. His leg was shaking a little. She didn't think she had ever seen a man so uncomfortable in his own skin.

"Relax," she said. "Want a drink?"

He drummed his fingers across his leg. "No thanks."

"Oh!" she said. "Want some pot? Jakey gets the good stuff and I know where he keeps everything."

"Uh...no," he said. He didn't look at her. "I don't smoke pot."

She snorted. "Yeah. Okay. And I don't drink."

He was silent. "I could psychoanalyze you if you want," she said. She thought he'd be pretty easy. Low self-esteem. Depression. Possible eating disorder. Weird taste in women.

Because Nellie? Nellie looked like a witch. An ugly witch. And her accent was probably fake. She was not a big fan of Nellie's. Nellie was only slightly better than Holly and she hated Holly. She was glad that bitch hadn't showed her face at the wedding.

"Thanks," he said. "But I already get that done once a week." Then the slightest twitch of a smile and he said, "Although I guess a second opinion couldn't hurt."

"No," she said. She leaned in, kissed him quickly. He looked a little stunned. She took off his glasses, set them on the table, kissed him again. She stood up, took his hand and said, "Come on" and led him to the bedroom.

-

The first word he managed to choke out was "Sorry." Which was typical of him. Apologizing for something that he hadn't done wrong yet. Preemptive strike maybe. He would screw something up somehow. Look how delusional he had been about Nellie.

"You want me to stop?" Meredith asked. "We can go back into the kitchen and eat crackers and talk crap about Dwight or Michael if you want."

They had been kissing on her bed and his head was spinning just a little because this was Meredith and it was crazy but she definitely knew what she was doing and everything felt so good and yeah he knew he would somehow screw everything up but he didn't want her to stop.

"Don't stop," he whispered.

"Good answer," she said. She pushed him down on the bed, took off his tie, and made quick work of his shirt.

"What were you apologizing for anyway?"

He shivered as she touched him. "I don't know. I guess I'm just really out of practice."

"Huh," she said, cool hands running down his chest, then moving to his sides, then his belt. "We'll just have to do a lot of practicing tonight. Now how about we get these pants off?"

-

A car alarm went off around four startling her awake.

"Shut the fuck up!" she yelled as loud as she could before remembering she wasn't alone in bed. Oh yeah.

"Sorry," she muttered.

The noise went on for several more minutes during which she cursed, telling the alarm where it could go, what it was full of and what it could do to itself. And then silence. "Thank god."

"Meredith," he said, and his voice was so low and she so didn't want to hear this right now. How he was regretting everything and they shouldn't have done this and he should probably just leave now. At least they didn't work together anymore. That could be awkward. Not that she was a stranger to post-sex awkwardness.

"What?"

"You looked really pretty yesterday. At the wedding."

She couldn't remember the last time she had been called pretty. Not by someone who seemed sincere. It was such an innocent compliment. She wondered if she was blushing.

"Oh," she said. "Thanks. I'm trying to reinvent myself. I'm trying to be all sophisticated and crap."

"I'd like to reinvent myself," he said. "I'd like to be someone else. Someone who isn't...who doesn't..."

Someone who doesn't break down in tears at weddings? She didn't blame him.

"I'll let you borrow one of my wigs," she said. "Maybe the platinum one."

And she knew it wasn't that easy, but he still nodded and then said, "Meredith?"

"Yeah?"

"So...um...last night?"

Here was the regret. "Hmm?"

He reached out, touched her hair, her face. "I think I...uh... maybe could use some more practice."

She smiled. "You do, huh?"

"Yeah. I mean, I think I did okay for someone so out of practice..." She nodded in agreement. He continued, "But I know I can do better. I can do more." And he met her eyes and said, "A lot more."

She was nodding again and pulling him toward her, his mouth meeting hers. He seemed more confident than last night and she found that kind of a turn on. He pulled away, watching her intently, and asked, "You know what's funny?"

She shook her head. He said, "All these years one bad thing after another happened to me and it was all caught on tape for everyone's entertainment. And now something good finally happens and there's no one here to film it."

She laughed, running her hands over his back. "You want to be filmed doing this, Toby, you just let me know. I can have the equipment set up so fast."

-

He woke up alone. That wasn't exactly new for him, but he wasn't expecting it this morning. He wondered if she was upset, disgusted, ready to kick him out. He was not looking forward to that. He fumbled for his glasses before remembering they were in the living room, on the sticky table. He stretched and pulled on his wrinkled dress clothes, stuffing the tie in his pocket.

He found his glasses and walked into the kitchen, freezing when he realized he wasn't looking at Meredith, but some skinny shirtless kid with a ponytail and some kind of tattoo on his face. Toby didn't know where to look. He decided the floor was a good place.

"Hey," the kid said. "Meredith went to get donuts. There's some coffee if you want it."

"I'm...okay," he mumbled. Uncomfortable didn't even begin to describe this situation. At least, he had thought to get dressed. "Jake right?" He wondered if he should sit down at the table or continue to stand. Not that it would make anything less awkward. Jake had already seen him exit Meredith's bedroom. He sat down.

"Yeah," Jake said. "And you're Tony."

"Toby," he corrected. He didn't know what else to say. Jake nodded and then went in the other room to watch TV. Maybe he should join him. No, that would be strange. He stayed where he was and thought about what he needed to do before his flight later today.

He was very grateful when Meredith came back. "Jake, get in here!" she called. "I got the maple donut you like."  
She set the pink box on the table and said, "I don't know what you liked so I got a few different kinds. Figured you'd find something."

"Thanks," he said. Meredith grabbed a glazed and pushed the box toward him. "So..." he said. She interrupted, "Jakey! Get your ass in here. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Don't take the maple," she said to Toby. "Jake has been known to throw a fit if someone takes his maple."

"God Mom," Jake said, coming in. "That happened once. And I was like ten. If Tony wants the maple donut that bad, he can have it."

"It's okay," Toby said quickly, not bothering to correct him. "Chocolate's good."

Jake took his maple bar and sat down next to Meredith. "Get any good tips last night?" she asked him.

Jake shrugged, mumbled something around a mouthful of donut. Meredith said, "Jake's a stripper. He's not bad for a beginner." Then before Toby could process that she asked, "You going back to New York today?"

"Yeah. My flight's this afternoon. I'll take a cab back to the motel to get my stuff."

"I can drive you," she said. "Unless you were planning to see your kid first."

And what little appetite he had vanished. He swallowed and put down his donut. "No."

"If you need a ride to see her..."

"No," he said. Then realizing how snappish he had sounded to one of the few people offering him any sort of kindness, he apologized. "Thank you. Sorry. I just..." He sighed, shaking his head. No he wouldn't say anything. She didn't care. He would save this for the therapist.

"What?" Meredith asked. "You can tell me what's going on. Maybe it'll help."

It was hard reconciling this Meredith with the one he had known at work. She seemed interested in what was on his mind. What was bothering him. Maybe it would help to tell someone.

"Sasha's at an age...she's almost in high school. Kids that age want to blend in. They don't want to be different. And the documentary comes out and it shows me...being me and it embarrasses her." He looked down and mumbled, "I embarrassed my daughter and..." His voice was barely a whisper when he concluded, "I don't think she wants to see me."

Meredith didn't say anything, only got up and placed a cup of coffee in front of him. He felt drained, too exhausted to lift his head up to look up at her, to thank her. He had been able to put his daughter out of his mind yesterday at the wedding and last night. But now he could hear her voice just as clear as if she were sitting right in front of him. She had told him that kids at school made fun of her and told her how weird her dad was. "And then you put your hand on Pam's knee," Sasha had said and she had made a face, so like her mother's. Scornful. "That was like way gross."

"Give her a little time," his ex had said in her fake kind voice, so sickly sweet and nothing like the woman he married so long ago. "She loves you, but it was just hard for her to watch."

It was hard for him to watch too. He could understand why someone watching wouldn't want anything to do with him. He could understand why his daughter, his daughter whom he loved so much, would want to distance herself from the man on TV. The pale, slouching, mumbling man in the corner. Everyone's favorite punching bag. The creepy guy people went out of their way to avoid. Who would be proud to have that as a father?

"That sucks," someone said, rousing him out of his misery. He looked up to see Jake reaching for another donut, licking powdered sugar off his fingers. "That's really shitty."

"Language," Meredith said. "But yeah that is really shitty."

He stared at the coffee cup in front of him. It had a picture of Meredith's face on it. He had been in Costa Rica when Kelly had given those out. Kelly had asked him once if he wanted one too. He had said no. It was bad enough he had to look at himself in the mirror; why would he want to see his face on a cup every morning?

Still focusing on the cup, he said, "I told Cathy I'd be down for the weekend, for the panel and wedding and I would love to see Sasha. Cathy said they'd be out of town visiting her sister. Maybe she was telling the truth but couldn't they have rescheduled or come back a little earlier? Or maybe they're home and Sasha just doesn't want to see me."

Meredith didn't say anything and he realized that she probably didn't know how to respond. He had made things uncomfortable again. He was just about to offer yet another apology, before she walked behind him, pressing the palms of her hands flat on his back, up to his shoulders, pressing hard. Even that small touch felt so nice. It had been so long.

"Sorry," he said. "I can't..." He didn't know how to finish his thought.

"You know," Meredith said, leaning past him to examine the remaining donuts. "I don't know why I just don't get a whole boxful of maples. They really are the best."

-

The radio was busted in her van. Which sucked because he wasn't saying anything on the ride to the motel and she had no idea what to say to fill the silence. He had given her directions (which wasn't necessary because she knew pretty much every motel in town), thanked her again for the ride and had clammed up.

She considered telling him that she knew her kids were embarrassed by her and had been for years even before the documentary aired. She wanted to say that Jake used to tell people she was his crazy babysitter, but they had a perfectly healthy relationship how. Or maybe she could tell him that when he had been in the bathroom and she had been trying to find her keys, Jake had pulled her aside and said, "I guess he's okay. You might need to hide your sleeping pills from him so he doesn't try to off himself in the middle of the night, but he's okay."

Coming from Jake that was a pretty high compliment.

She might say that she could tell he was a good father, much better than Jake's father. And hey Jake could use a decent male role model in his life and if he ever wanted to take Jake fishing or play catch with him that would be fine with her and everything.

She was about to say that she just knew Sasha would come around when he stopped staring forlornly out the window, turned to her, and said, "About what you said last night..."

"What?"

"About trying to reinvent yourself," he said. "Do you think you've been successful"

"Definitely," she said. "I still like to have fun. And it's fine for me to have fun. I mean I'm only thirty-six." She paused, seeing if he would contradict her. He did not so she continued, "I'm still going to party and be me, but I've been toning it down just a bit.

"I realized that I should keep my clothes on in public and stop bringing home losers I don't know."

He frowned. "As opposed to the losers you do know?" He shook his head. "Sorry. I need to stop doing that. Saying self-deprecating things like that. It makes other people uncomfortable. I didn't meant to interrupt you."

"No, it's fine. And the documentary did sort of inspire me to want to get a makeover. It was time for a new look you know?"

"Yeah," he said. "I need to reinvent myself. I guess I know all the things I need to change but don't even know where to start."

She focused on the traffic ahead of them as she mentally ticked off all the changes he could make. "Well," she said in her most practical tone, "what do you want most in life?"

He answered immediately. "To be happy. No question. And I don't mean by taking pills. I mean by being around people who want to be around me."

"Aren't there women in New York?" she asked. "I mean you must get outside every once in awhile, right? In between writing the next Moby Dick or whatever you're doing up there. Do you even like New York? I hate New York."

"It's okay," he mumbled.

She honked a few times at the idiot driver in front of her before saying, "Okay so being around someone who is happy to be around you and won't think you're stalking her or whatever is your main goal. Now what do you do to get to that goal?"

He sighed. She turned into the motel parking lot. "I have no idea," he said. "I just know things have to change."

"Yeah," she said. "They really do. You didn't used to be weird like this."

"Yeah. I know."

She parked the van. It was still reasonably early. She would do some errands, maybe a load of laundry, see if Jake needed anything washed. Strippers needed to look their best.

"Thank you, Meredith," he said.

"Sure." She grinned. "You know for someone so out of practice, you weren't bad at all. Especially the second time when you really got into it. Damn. You got some skills there, Flenderson. I should probably be thanking you for a few of those moves."

She watched, with some amusement, as he reacted to that. When his face had somewhat resumed its normal color and he seemed capable of speaking, he stammered, "Um...thank you. But I meant... I meant for everything, Meredith. Not just what happened last night, but talking. Letting me talk. It's been a very long time since that's happened."

"Sure," she said, feeling kind of pleased with herself. "And hey we can hang out at the next wedding."

"Who do you think will be getting married next?"

"I don't know. Ryan and Kelly?"

He made a face. "God help us all."

She laughed. "Erin and Plop?"

"They seem so young," he said. "Don't they? Or maybe I'm just getting old."

"Maybe."

"I need to get going," he said. He didn't sound too happy about it. "Check out and everything. Get to the airport."

"Okay. And good luck with your daughter. She'll come around."

He gave her a sad smile. "Thanks. I really hope so."

"She will. She loves you."

"Thanks," he said again.

"And good luck with the reinvention," she said. "Just start with something small."

He nodded. "Like moving back?"

"If you want to. And eating regularly."

"Yeah." He looked toward the motel then back at her. "Um...would it be okay if I call you sometime? To discuss our reinventions?"

Sounded fine to her. "Sure."

He smiled. And not some half-ass small smile either. A real smile. And the strangest thought came to her.

He was going to be okay. Things were going to be okay. Probably not immediately, but some day. People would forget the documentary and things would work out with his daughter and he'd be okay. She wasn't known for this kind of optimism and she had no idea where this faith in the future was coming from. But she looked at his smile and thought of last night and the idea of them discussing the progress of their reinventions and she couldn't shake the thought. Things would improve. He would be able to reinvent himself. He was going to be okay.

"Toby," she said and she was planning to tell him all that, but what came out instead was, "No one says we have to wait until someone's wedding."

the end


End file.
